intents are fleeting mists,
further in the forest, deeper into shade, as i whistle to tiny ears, perfect calls, repeat with urgent abandon, the once call of nature.
and in this communion, threats drop to mossy places where rains wash away.
then awake from cryptic longings, will moves tender leaves from the mind's encounter, the rock of memory vanishing the plane of lost and bridled loves, the shattered future, the disremembered past, the fleeting that is now...... all coalesce in words, defining shape from dreams and once from none.
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